I read so much shit on tumblr. so many different ideas about what love is or isn’t. What life is or isn’t, how if we don’t do this or that and how it will shape who we are. so many different experiences, so many different outlooks on life. They all make me question where I stand in it all. I can relate to a lot of different POV’s, but that’s just me and how I’ve always been. I might not agree either way but I can understand all sides. It’s just interesting how when it comes to my own life I don’t see as clearly. I wish I did. I guess that’s the growth and struggle through my own life and not being able to see 20/20 at all times.
That’s my granddad. Or as I so affectionately call him “old buzzard”. He’s not my biological grandfather but I know he couldn’t be a better fit for a grandfather. My maternal grandfather was an asshole and I know I’m glad he didn’t live long enough to see me grow up. Knowing what I know about him and what he did to my mom and grandma, I count my blessings for Mr. Howard. We’re not particularly close but not particularly distant either. So, we went to breakfast this morning because he’s always asking me when we’re going to get together again. And I always tell him i don’t know or soon. But truthfully, I had been avoiding it because I felt afraid to make the connection/getting attached. He’ll be 80 this June. Morbid and twisted thoughts of his mortality have kept me from spending more time with him. But I’m seeing that by doing that I’m really just wasting the time we do have. So, I’ve decided to take him out more. Even though he repeats himself a million times and sometimes I’m not sure what the hell is the point of his stories, he’s still a cool ass old man.
She told me she dreamed with me last night. I told her, “don’t you know I’m what dreams are made of.”
Omg dyin… lmao. Martin Lawrence: You So Crazy got me rollin like its the first time I’m seeing it. Love this shit.
I should have known. Smh.
The other morning I woke up with all this love and joy in my heart. I felt like it was going to burst out of my chest if I didn’t share it. It was refreshing and weird to feel that way. In the past, I would have hit her up and shared that love. And that morning I didn’t have anyone in particular that I wanted to share that feeling with. No one romantically attached at least. And then it hit me, I don’t have to share it that way. I have plenty people around me who could use some of that. I have myself that I can share that with. Most importantly me because I need it. I’m writing this thinking it sounds really mushy and sappy. But I’m also learning to listen to these thoughts and feelings as equally as I do to my others. It’s about growth and progression, right? Taking care of me like I take of the ones I love because it’s about that time.